Page 15 of Guard Bear (Return To Fate Mountain #5)

Chapter

Thirteen

Through the windshield, Timber Bear Ranch stretched under the afternoon sun. Fence posts marked the boundaries of Joy's world, each one a reminder that he was in her family's territory. His collar felt too tight. He tugged at it with one hand, keeping the other steady on the wheel.

The scent of Joy's lavender shampoo filled the truck cab, mixing with the cake's sweetness and his own nervous sweat. She'd dressed casually, in jeans and a soft blue blouse that made his bear want to nuzzle into her warmth. Now she watched him with those knowing eyes.

"Your bear's showing." Her voice held gentle amusement.

Andre forced his grip to loosen. The leather creaked as blood flowed back into his fingers. "That obvious?"

"Just a little." She reached across the console, her hand settling on his thigh. "They're going to love you."

He turned onto the ranch's main drive, gravel crunching beneath the tires. The house came into view. Cedar siding weathered to silver-gray, a wide porch wrapping around the front. Work boots lined up by the door. There was a cluster of vehicles parked in the driveway. He recognized Gabriel Reynolds’ truck and Chief Reynolds’ SUV from the station.

Others he didn't know. His pulse hammered against his collar.

"Your uncle is my boss." The words scraped his throat. "I should have told him the moment we matched. Joy, when he finds out?—"

"He'll probably open champagne." Her fingers squeezed his thigh. "This is Fate Mountain. Mate matches are sacred."

Andre's bear bristled. Sacred didn't mean simple. Sacred didn't erase the fact that he'd been keeping secrets from his commanding officer. He parked behind Gabriel's truck, cutting the engine. His stomach clenched.

"Ready?" Joy asked.

"No." But he was already climbing out, moving to retrieve the cake from the backseat. The carrier felt slippery in his sweating palms. Three layers of please-accept-me wrapped in German chocolate and coconut.

He could smell grilled meat and Maria's spices floating on the air. The screen door opened before they reached it, and Joy’s cousin Valeria bounced on her toes in the doorway, eyes lighting up when she saw them.

"Joy!” Then her gaze landed on Andre. "Wait, who's—" Her eyes went wide, ping-ponging between them. "Oh my God. OH MY GOD. You're Joy's match?" Valeria stepped back inside. "You guys won’t believe who the match is!”

Andre followed Joy into the living room. Voices layered over each other, the television playing a baseball game. Heath sat in a leather armchair, beer bottle halfway to his lips. The bottle froze as his eyes found Andre.

Joy’s aunt Rosa sat in the matching armchair across from Heath, a book forgotten in her lap as she looked up at the new arrivals. Gabriel was on the couch, his detective brain already calculating. Andre could see the pieces clicking into place.

"So..." Joy's voice carried clearly through the sudden stillness. "Yeah... Andre is the one I matched with on mate.com."

The room erupted. Rosa's hands flew to her chest with a delighted gasp, her book sliding to the floor. Gabriel sat up straight, muttering a curse before apologizing to his mother. Valeria started bouncing again. And Heath watched with assessing eyes.

"The farmers market." Gabriel's eyes narrowed—the detective look. "That's why you were so weird during your announcement. You saw her for the first time that morning."

Heat crawled up Andre's neck. The admission felt like peeling off body armor. "I had just matched with her that morning."

"Is that chocolate I smell?" Joy’s mother Maria said, appearing in the kitchen door.

"German chocolate." Andre lifted the carrier slightly. "Three layers. Made it myself."

Her eyes lit up. "Oh, you're going to fit right in. Come. Let’s put that in the kitchen.”

Andre followed gratefully, the cake carrier clutched like a shield. Maria's kitchen wrapped around him—onions sizzling in a pan, something rich and dark bubbling on the back burner. The scent of cumin and chile peppers made his nose tingle.

"Set that on the counter," Maria directed, handing him a knife and cutting board. "You can help with the vegetables."

Andre positioned himself at the island, grateful for something to do with his hands. Through the doorway, he could hear Joy laughing. The sound made his chest tight.

"Joy hates when people hover," Maria said conversationally, adding spices to her sauce. The wooden spoon moved in practiced circles. "Gets that from me."

Andre's hands stilled on the onion he'd been peeling. "Buck didn't understand that at first." Maria stirred the sauce, not looking at him. "After what happened to me, he wanted to keep me in the house where it was safe."

The onion's layers separated under Andre's knife. His eyes stung—good excuse for the moisture gathering there.

"He learned," Maria continued. "The good ones always learn."

“I’m learning, too,” he said in a low voice.

“Good.” Maria winked at him. “Could you take this to Buck for me, please,” she said, handing Andre a ceramic platter. Through the window, he could see Buck at the grill, smoke rising into the evening air.

He took the platter and stepped onto the porch. Buck stood at a massive gas grill. He looked up when Andre approached, his shoulders tensing slightly.

"Maria said to bring you this,” Andre said, holding up the platter.

“Perfect timing,” Buck said.

Andre held the platter while Buck transferred the steaks. Neither spoke for long moments. The only sounds were sizzling meat and distant laughter from inside.

"My daughter," Buck finally said. “You’ve been trying to keep her safe from this sabotage business around Fate Mountain.”

“Yes, sir.” Andre's throat went dry. "I want to keep her safe and make her happy."

"That’s good. But you need to understand, those might be different things with Joy."

Buck studied him for another moment, then lifted his shirt. Old scars crossed his ribs, deep claw marks that hadn't healed clean. The tissue was raised and white against his darker skin.

"Maria gave me these," Buck said quietly. "She was feral for three weeks after the forced change. I found her, helped her remember human form. Thought I was saving her."

Andre's chest tightened. He knew this story from Joy, but hearing it from Buck, seeing the physical evidence?—

"I almost lost her again by trying to cage her after." Buck let his shirt fall. "Took me too long to understand that protection isn't prison. You know what she's been through. You understand what that means?"

"I'm learning—" The words came out rough, scraped raw with honesty.

Buck nodded once. "Good answer. Let's eat."

They carried the steaks inside to find the dining room table set and everyone finding their seats.

Joy patted the chair beside her, and Andre sank into it gratefully.

The meal became a choreographed chaos of passing dishes, overlapping conversations, and gentle interrogation.

Valeria hadn't stopped vibrating with excitement, peppering them with questions between bites of perfectly seasoned steak.

"I KNEW something was up with you!" She pointed her fork at Andre. "You got all tense whenever we mentioned Joy's patrol sector."

"The way you memorized every access road to her property," Gabriel added, his detective mind putting pieces together. "Asked about response times to that exact area."

"It was a legitimate security concern," Andre protested, face burning.

"So," Gabriel leaned back in his chair. "How does it feel knowing your mate's uncle is your boss?"

Andre's bear bristled at the reminder. "Complicated."

"I bet." Gabriel's grin held sympathy.

"Leave him alone," Joy intervened, though she was clearly fighting laughter.

After they’d finished their dinner, Maria stood. "Who wants dessert?"

A chorus of “I do’s” followed. The cake appeared like a chocolate miracle. Maria cut generous slices while Joy distributed plates, their movements synchronized from years of family dinners.

"From scratch?" Rosa asked, forking up a bite.

"My grandmother's recipe," Andre managed. "But I add espresso to the chocolate. Deepens the flavor."

Valeria took a bite and moaned theatrically. "Okay, you can stay. Anyone who bakes like this is family."

"He stress bakes," Joy said, pride warming her voice. "Wait until you try his cinnamon rolls."

"Stress baking!" Rosa clapped. "Finally, someone else who understands. Though I do cookies. Dozens and dozens when Heath’s on a dangerous call."

The conversation shifted to safer ground—baking disasters, family recipes, the time Gabriel tried to make bread and created a brick instead. Andre found himself relaxing by degrees. This felt like family dinners should feel. Warm. Inclusive. Safe.

The goodbyes took forever, each person finding their own moment.

Buck pulled him into a hug instead of a handshake.

The embrace was brief but solid, acceptance in the gesture.

Maria pressed containers into his hands with strict instructions about reheating.

Heath clapped his shoulder with a knowing look.

Valeria made him promise to bring baked goods to the station.

Rosa kissed both his cheeks, welcoming him properly to the family.

Andre's chest felt too full. He nodded, not trusting his voice.

In the truck, Joy launched across the console before he'd even closed his door. Her kiss was desperate, claiming. Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging just hard enough to make his bear rumble with satisfaction.

"They love you."

“I was terrified.”

"I know.” Joy settled against his side as he started the truck. "Val's going to be insufferable at work."

"Your uncle seemed… accepting."

"I told you he would be." Her hand found his thigh again.

The stars spread out overhead as they drove back to her tiny house, carrying the warmth of family acceptance between them.